


Kiss Me

by robertstanion



Series: Hatchetober [3]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: M/M, TWs:, There's just a lot of death, also religion, bang straight angst, based on a tiktok i made yesterday, hatchetober day 3: apocalypse, i'm forcing myself to learn the themes of romeo and juliet so, it's not offensive dw, mcnamander apocalypse apotheosis au? can i become the ceo plz, mentions of kids dying, specifically hannah, there's a lot of reference to religion, xander lee has a big brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robertstanion/pseuds/robertstanion
Summary: The Apotheosis strikes Hatchetfield and Xander Lee is one stubborn son of a bitch
Relationships: Xander Lee/John McNamara
Series: Hatchetober [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949110
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> how in thine fuckery did i write two mcnamander fics in one day, am i emotionally okay
> 
> i will answer that question for you: i started writing this with Rick Montgomerys mr loverman playing and ended with Falling by Harry Styles playing. yes :) 
> 
> joking im going thru a little bit of a rough patch but that's okay. so fuck romeo and juliet, tws in the tags, and enjoy you sadist bitches

“Sorry, a musical apocalypse?” John McNamara asked himself as he sat, practically draped across his husband as he worked on the data and stat reports that would be going into the mission. Xander was biting on his lip, his arm wrapped around John’s shoulders, yet both hands typed with a speed John had never seen before. Xander never failed to amaze John, and with both of their lives on the line, as well as the remainder of the island, they had no time to waste. Thank God Xander could type like that and also had a calculator for a brain. It was exactly what they needed in the time of crises they’d found themselves in, and it had all started with a meteor.

They’d detected it some time in the middle of last week, and Xander had been in contact with NASA immediately. Xander was good at posing as someone he wasn’t, and it helped he was a theoretical physicist and knew practically _everything_ about space, and time, and meteors. Specifically, meteors. Specifically, meteors that glowed bright blue on the detectors at the precinct in the middle of the ocean off of the coast of Michigan, that the space company had been unable to find. Surprisingly, PEIP were more advanced than the most famous space centre in the world, or whatever NASA claimed they were. John didn’t pay attention to them.

With the knowledge the meteor, though not small enough to _end_ the world, it would cause damage to wherever it landed. It was only about the size of a large boulder, but the impact from space would mean it would probably cause the damage of a large-scale earthquake. PEIP set into motion, deciding to ensure that the safety precautions were up and ready to go for when the meteor hit Hatchetfield .

Xander’s precision based on where the meteor would hit was accurate. It was before the cast of the touring production of Mamma Mia were about to head on stage, and the meteor didn’t hit it immediately. Once inside Earth’s atmosphere, it instead floated down, with the brightest blue light known to man shining from the abnormal rock’s core. It caused certain damage to the theatre, and also to those who happened to be placed inside it. When the meteor landed, it landed on the stage. What PEIP hadn’t been aware of was how there were spores inside, desperate to fill the Earth and bring space to those who never got to go up. The spores were deadly, and were a pathogen that would take root inside the mind of the human figure, and from the meteor, would use it as a chance to eliminate humanity, and bend the species to it’s own will.

That’s what had happened from 5 in the AM to that minute, which was 9:37 in the PM. John was safely cuddled up against his husband’s side as John watched him come up with several different outcomes based on minor things that the agency would do. It was down to them, essentially. The butterfly effect would be a major part of this timeline. They knew about the timelines, and there wasn’t any hesitation that there weren’t several copies of themselves scattered across the universe. The same species, the same populations copied and pasted on to some fucked up word document, for a higher power to write and to control however they pleased for their own sick satisfaction.

They knew what they were doing was dangerous. They were adding fire to fire, but if it meant they could save who was left of the island, if there was anyone, then they’d be able to do it efficiently with no fear. There would always be fear, of course there would, but it meant that those who came out from this would be stronger than ever before. Earlier in the day, John had distributed a team of agents over to Clivesdale, so any infected members could be transported to the hospital there with no disastrous effects that would leave a permanent scar on the island, or on the timeline. It meant that the team was much smaller, leaving only the best of the best still working. Agents Lou Hartford, Benny Slate and Colonel Schaffer were over in Hatchetfield, and they were some of John’s closest and best agents he’d ever worked with. Luckily, Xander had persisted and convinced John on staying on the island. If he wasn’t so stubborn, he’d have made Xander go to Clivesdale to safety with Schaffer, but he was so incredibly stubborn that no matter what John said had been deflected, and he chose on staying to help his husband.

“Yes, dear. A ‘musical apocalypse’ which could turn sour extremely quickly if not acted upon soon.” Xander bit down on his thumbnail as he typed quicker and quicker with his right hand.

“How sour are we talking, Zee?” John asked, pulling away from Xander slightly to give him more freedom to complete his studies.

“Well, if the virus gets off the island, it _will_ become a global pandemic that will wipe out humanity as we know it.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, this is why it’s important that we act quick. We are yet to understand the formal consequences of the virus on the brain, which is why I need to go and grab an infected member, as risky as it is, and I know you’re going to say no, which is why I’m ignoring you.” Xander punctuated whatever sentence he was typing, standing up swiftly, and grabbing his protective gear as John watched him.

“I am demanding you sit back down,” John said as he followed his husband, standing and following him around the lab they’d locked themselves in, in a quarantine type event. Neither of them had been very fond about the idea of coming down with whatever virus was currently holding the island under its control, but if John knew anything from experience, it was a timeline ending event.

“And I already said, I’m ignoring you.” Xander turned and looked at John, his eyes determined and sure. “I know the risks. I calculated them, but god, John. I’m asking you stay here. You’re the general of this precinct, and I assure you that we’ll be okay. We’re gonna get to Clivesdale, you’re gonna make it back to Hartford and Slate, aren’t you? We both are. We’re gonna take them both into our care.”

“Me being the general means nothing to the general public, love. They don’t know me as General John McNamara. They know me as “that cop’s cousin” or “Ken Davidson’s fucking nephew.”

“I know,” Xander sighed and looked at him. They stayed looking at each other, trying to find a compromise in the other’s eyes, and when they couldn’t, Xander rummaged in his pocket for something, and John furrowed his eyebrows. Eventually, Xander pulled out a black mask, a face covering that was simple, and Xander held it out to John. “This is yours. I’ve got one myself. I may or may not have hooked myself up with the uniform maker for PEIP to ensure that our agents had full protection over whatever virus was claiming the innocent citizens here.”

Reluctantly, John took it and slipped it on his face, getting used to the feeling. He watched Xander put his own on, and John tilted his head. “I’m trusting you with this mission. You wear full protection, and keep the air conditioning on. Keep me updated.”

“I will.” Xander walked forward, removing his mask to kiss John’s forehead. “The computer has a new tech instalment on it which’ll tell you a new dead citizen claimed by the virus. Information will be taken from security cameras from around the island to tell you this. My plan is to find the nearest one, lug them back to the precinct, and keep them in a quarantined cell where I can monitor them effortlessly. I’ll be okay.”

John bit the inside of his cheek as a dark feeling settled in his gut. He didn’t like how it was Xander to be outside the precinct and not him, after all. He was stronger, and whatever was thrown at him could be taken. Xander was the smartest guy in the agency, and John was the strongest. They needed brains without the brawn realistically, for all agents were trained to have the strength to fight against whatever could be thrown at them. A rare specimen to come across was someone so smart that they were on a different kind of IQ to the others, and that person just so happened to be Xander. Still, he looked up to Xander, cupped his cheek, and removed his mask, placing it in his breast pocket. “I love you, Xander Lee. Come home to me?”

“I will, I always do.” Xander, before leaving, held John’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss, as John draped his arms over Xander’s shoulders. They knew there was no time to miss, so it didn’t last long, but the meaning was still there. They pulled away, and Xander brushed John’s hair behind his ear. “I love you too.” After the words had been spilled, the physicist turned on his heel and left the lab, leaving John alone in the lab he was familiar with, but could only associate it with the unsettlement he would feel until Xander returned.

If Xander returned.

John sighed deeply, letting his shoulders hang, as he walked over to the desktop Xander left open. He slid into the chair and tucked it neatly under the desk, as he watched the form before him.

_9:45: Harrison Thames, Heart Lane_

_9:46: Alice Simmons, Hatchetfield High Choir Room_

_9:47: Ethan Green, Hatchetfield Trailer Park_

_9:49: Lex Foster: Hatchetfield Trailer Park_

_9:49:47: Hannah Foster: Ethan Green’s Arms, Hatchetfield Trailer Park_

_9:54: Michael Icacks: CCRP Technical_

_9:56: Damien Richards: Tanworth Close_

John cursed then. Colonel Richards was a good man, and Tanworth was only around the corner. John felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand as he made sense of Xander’s savvy new piece of tech. _Time of death, name of Hatchetfield Citizen, place of death._ It’d make it easier to collect the bodies and bring them back for revival, if things went forward.

_9:58: Patrick Georgeford: 47B Netwick Lane_

_9:59: James Firen: Lakeside Mall_

_10:00: Xander Lee: Tanworth Close_

John’s heart stopped as he saw the name flash on the screen. No. _No. NO._ He didn’t think twice, as he bolted from the chair and out to the car that would take him to his husband. He couldn’t let Xander die, and he knew it was too late from the graph, but he had to hope. Xander had always been the optimistic one. Xander settled all of John’s woes, fears and anxieties before it was too late. This time, it had to be the other way around. John had never been good at comforting people, and always seemed to make the situation worse, so how in God’s holy name was he going to be able to comfort the man he loved the most as he approached a figure with the coldest soul in the world who he couldn’t love.

He threw on his mask without further hesitation and sped away from the precinct, tears daring to brim his eyes. He forced them back. At the speed he was going, which was dangerous in itself, and of the location of Tanworth, he was at the street in just under a minute, where he saw, just in time, an infected man holding Xander tightly, a large gash in his husband’s arm. John got out of the car, and neither of the others noticed as he drew the gun and fired a bullet straight through the infected bastard’s head. It left Xander a crumpled mess on the floor.

He pocketed the gun and rushed forward, and as he came nearer to the sobbing figure of Xander, he noticed the shaking. The gash on his arm was dripping blood down it, and it was moving slower than regular blood would. There was more red than blue in his blood, and John knew he had time, or had a chance with more time.

He crouched to the floor beside him and lifted Xander’s head up, and their eyes met. Xander sobbed loudly, and it was close to a scream. Then came the string of apologies that was almost a prayer he’d make it out alive, like if he apologised to whoever ruled the earth it’d give him a second chance. Hearing Xander in so much pain, he pulled his body to his chest and held him in his arms, letting Xander grip John’s uniform as he cried.

“I’m sorry-“ Xander cried out as he looked at John, who shushed him. “I’m sorry, I was so stupid, I was so so stupid-“

“Just tell me what happened. You can still help.” He reassured, and brushed a tear away from Xander’s face.

“It- don’t let ‘em touch you. The spores, they’re in slime. The slime is their blood, John. It’s blue, and it’s viscous, and the spores are in there. If they cut open your skin, they have access to you no matter what. It doesn’t matter if you where the mask. They can get you, and they will.” Another burst of pain claimed Xander as he screamed out, and seized in John’s arms, as John held him tighter.

“Shh, I’m here, I’m here.” Hearing in Xander in so much pain frightened him, but he’d be there until there wasn’t any Xander left.

“I don’t wanna die-“

John shut his eyes and nodded, removing his mask, stuffing it into his trouser pockets. “I know you don’t, and I wish you’d have gone to Clivesdale with the others….”

“I love you.” Xander said definitely, looking up to John, with his eyes pleading.

John nodded and took a breath. “I love you too.”

As the words were spoken, Xander cried out one last time in pain as the browns of his irises swirled, and became a pool of blue water, with a beat that ran through his husband’s veins. John could feel it. The tears evaporated instantly, as Xander shifted in John’s lap, seemingly in no pain anymore. John moved him to the ground, and Xander moved to sit on his knees.

“You wanna know somethin’, John?” Xander asked, his voice much more different to how it was before. “We want you to join us. How can you say no to me? You’re our leader, now, love. You’re our master. So, claim us. Claim me as your own. I can see those tears in your eyes that you’re trying to hide. Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not.”

“Then kiss me.”

John knew what would happen. He thought back to the computer that was open on Xander’s desk with a full number of notes on it. _Infected citizens have been seen to puke a slime like consistency into the mouths of others, or into open wounds for spores to access the bloodstream and vital organs. This is a rare phenomenon, and the inhaling of spores is going to be the most common death that we manage to see from the event._ John could tell that those notes had changed over the course of the day.

So had he.

He’d lost his husband, his best friend and his partner. He’d lost the smile he woke up to every morning, the smell of pine and coffee, and a laugh that could be heard from all over the house. He lost the smell of home cooking, complaints for John to get his washing in the washer instead of leaving it in the basket, and the talk of a family. He lost the soft touch of hands bandaging his injuries, the soft lips against his own, and the tears that’d fall if their conversations became too deep. He lost a part of himself.

So he went for it.

He mimicked Xander’s past motions and cupped his face, pulling him in for a kiss with zero hesitation. He felt agonising pain as the slime travelled into his mouth, and down his throat. It felt like a million needles stabbing at the skin, that seemed to choke him. He found himself unable to breathe, and pulled away, but he knew the damage was done. He couldn’t breathe, and he gasped for air, clutching at his neck, as the infected man he’d known as Xander smiled on. He continued to cough, until he spluttered up blood on to the pavement in front of him.

Blue.

With no ability to fight, he let go, and let the song consume him. Xander held out his hand to him, and he took it. “You gotta find a man named Paul. He’ll be our leader. He’ll bring us back.”

“Do you promise? Is that what he wants?” John asked as he tilted his head to the side. Xander grabbed John’s chin, and wiped something off of it.

“We’re about to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if i made u cry and also sorry if u came from my tiktok


End file.
